


sideways

by helsinkibaby



Category: FBI (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Het, Romance, everyone knows, near miss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: No-one knows it but Jubal hates being in the JOC when an op takes place. It’s even worse when things go sideways.
Relationships: Kristen Chazal/Jubal Valentine
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	sideways

**Author's Note:**

> AU ending to “The Ties That Bind” 
> 
> Not quite sure I got where I was meant to be going with this but I don’t know where I was actually going?

Something that a lot of people don’t know about Jubal is that he hates being in the JOC when an operation is going down. 

Not because he has any deep desire to be back in the field. On the contrary, he knows why he is where he is and he knows it’s the right call. But when his people, his friends are out there putting their lives on the line and all he can do is stand there and watch and listen... well, he might disguise it well but it’s not easy. 

That’s when an op goes well, rather than sideways. 

And it’s only got harder since Kristen is no longer beside him in the JOC, her mere presence enough to recentre him when adrenaline starts pumping so hard that he wants nothing more than to jump down the comms. Now she’s out there too, in harm’s way, and he trusts her, he does, has more confidence in her than he can possibly tell her. He just knows that it doesn’t make one blind bit of difference. 

Because the cliché is true - they have to be lucky every day but the bad guys only have to be lucky once. Then it doesn’t matter how good you are or how well you’re trained or how much you’ve studied. 

He tries very hard not to think about that. 

But today he can’t help it. 

Because today is the day his worst nightmares come true, the day when he’s standing in the JOC when an op goes sideways and all he hears, all anyone hears, are shouting voices, the words indistinct. 

Then he hears two sounds so close together that his brain can’t distinguish which came first or if they happened simultaneously. 

A scream and a gunshot. 

Jubal’s blood runs cold straight away, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. That’s Kristen’s scream and he knows that straight away because he’s heard her scream. Hell, he’s made her scream, has taken great pride and pleasure in it, but he’s never heard her scream like that. 

There’s a terrible silence, then OA’s voice sounds. “Agent down. I repeat, agent down. We need an ambulance to my location immediately.” 

There’s a dull roar in Jubal’s ears and he fights the urge to throw up. 

Today though, they get lucky. 

Today, it’s not as bad as it sounded over the comms. Did the op go sideways? Absolutely. But luckily for all involved, Stuart Scola’s quick reflexes and dead eye had saved the day; he’d managed to get a shot off, shooting Kristen’s attacker a bare second before the knife made contact with her skin. While the knife did leave its mark, it was slightly off target from the recoil of the bullet, with no real power behind the knife as its wielder fell to the ground. The wound was bloody, yes. Painful, yes. But what it wasn’t was fatal, not even requiring a trip to the hospital. 

Those are some of the most beautiful words Jubal has ever heard. He definitely owes Stuart a favour, he thinks. Or maybe ten. He should send him a fruit basket, maybe a good bottle of Scotch, whatever it is that says “thank you for saving my secret girlfriend’s life.” Not for the first time, he thanks his lucky stars that he suggested transferring Stuart here to partner up with Kristen, thanks them again that the brass took his suggestion on board. It was definitely one of his better ideas. 

He’s still thinking about that when scattered applause rings out through the bullpen and he wheels around to see Maggie and OA coming through the door, Kristen and Stuart following after them. Kristen looks drawn, eyes dark and shoulders rounded, Stuart shoulder to shoulder with her, his brow furrowed and his eyes never leaving her. Isobel walks over to them first, hugs each of them in turn, but Jubal hangs back, his own eyes studying Kristen like he’s prepping for his final college exams all over again. 

While he’s in the middle of doing that - and well on his way to an A grade, thank you very much - Stuart approaches him. “Jubal,” he says and Jubal nods, extends his hand. 

“Good work out there.” It’s a paltry excuse for what he actually wants to say but, you know, secret relationship and all that. 

“Thanks.” Stuart grips his hand firmly, pulls Jubal to pull him into a brief hug which is a good thing because it means no-one can overhear what he says. “Have to take care of our girl, right?”

Jubal knows that his jaw goes slack right along with his grip but he pulls himself together in time that when Stuart breaks their man hug, he’s got his face under control again. He considers denying Stuart’s implication but when he sees the smallest of smiles playing around the other man’s face, he decides discretion is the better part of valour. Another glance across the office shows Kristen wrapped in a tight hug from Ian, who looks like he doesn’t want to let her go. 

Jubal knows exactly how he feels. 

Stuart's hand lands on Jubal’s back and to anyone else it probably looks like a clap on the back, a wordless expression of relief that they made it through more or less unscathed. Jubal, however, feels the none too gentle shove in Kristen’s direction and he doesn’t even try to fight against it. One step towards her and Ian, and the other man, almost as if he sees him starting his approach, releases Kristen, jerking his chin at Jubal over her shoulder. She half turns, which means he can’t miss the flash of the dressing on her neck and his stomach churns. Then he looks into her eyes, sees the way she’s biting her lip as she looks at him and he suddenly can’t fathom why he’s all the way over here when she’s over there. 

He thinks he keeps his gait casual as he walks over and he certainly keeps his hands high on her back as he hugs her. It’s a brief hug, because it has to be, because holding onto her for as long as he wants would definitely get them fired, or at least transferred, but he doesn’t miss for those brief seconds as she buries her head in his shoulder, how she shudders and practically melts against him. 

He really, really needs to get her out of here. 

He huffs a breath against her hair and she straightens up, flashes him a tight smile that doesn’t fool him at all. Or anyone else if the suddenly knowing smiles of his co-workers who are studiously avoiding looking at him are anything to go by. 

How many people, he wonders, are they actually fooling any more?

“All right, people, I’m giving everyone the next forty-eight hours off.” From very far away, Isobel’s voice cuts through the bullpen. “Let’s get out of here and get some well earned rest.” She steps over to Kristen, drops her voice. “You get a week,” she says and Jubal expects Kristen to protest. Instead she just nods, moves away to her desk. 

Which is so far from the Kristen he knows that a shiver runs up Jubal’s spine. 

He’s so intent on watching Kristen sit down at her desk, starting to gather her things, that he doesn’t realise Isobel is speaking to him. “What?” he asks when he realises. 

Isobel presses her lips together and he can’t tell whether she’s pissed or amused. “I said that you can have the week off too. If you want.” She inclines her head in the direction of Kristen’s desk and the room seems to spin a little. 

“I don’t...” Jubal stops, tries to recentre. It doesn’t go so well. “Why would you think...” 

Isobel actually rolls her eyes. “You must think I was an awful agent.” He opens his mouth to protest but she doesn’t let him. “Jubal, I had you two made my first day here.” She pauses, waggles her head from left to right as if she’s considering something. “All right, my second day to be absolutely sure. But mostly from day one.” 

Jubal knows they’re breaking fraternisation rules, more unofficial than official, but still frowned upon. He doesn’t want to compound that by bare faced lying to the boss so he settles for saying, “It’s not what it looks like.” 

He means he’s not some creepy older agent using his power and position to coerce a younger co-worker into a relationship, but his words are greeted by a frown. “It looks like you two are in love with each other,” she points out and Jubal finds himself chuckling, rubbing a hand over his chin. 

“Then I guess it is what it looks like,” he admits and she’s able to smile at that too. 

“You don’t have to make your mind up now,” she tells him. “Take two days, then let me know. We can cover for you here.” Her gaze drifts to Kristen again. “Just make sure she’s okay.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” That’s an order Jubal’s going to have no trouble following. 

He gets his stuff together and makes his way to Kristen’s desk, sees her sitting there, staring into space, fingers playing idly with her necklace. He sits down on the edge of her desk - nothing unusual, he does that a lot - but still looks around to check the mostly empty bullpen doesn’t have anyone listening to them. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.” 

She frowns, looks around her and she looks surprised to see how deserted the place is. “My car-” she begins and while he’s not given to cutting her off, he does it now without a second thought. 

“We’ll figure it out.” He takes a step closer, drops his voice. “You shouldn’t be driving.” 

For a moment, he thinks she’s going to object further. Instead she sighs then stands. “Let’s go.”

He brings them to her apartment, not his, and she’s quiet on the way there, not one single word passing her lips. She’s completely silent until they walk into her apartment and he pushes the door shut behind them. Then she turns to him, her eyes dark and troubled, exhales his name on a ragged breath. 

He holds her gaze for no time at all because then she’s pressing her lips to his, her hands threading through his hair, fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp and making him shiver. His automatic reaction is to respond in kind, to pull her against him, his hands first cupping her face, then sliding down her back to her hips and lower still. There’s a low moan from the back of her throat and it only makes him hold her tighter, move them so that her back is against the wall, their coats the only thing they lose along the way. She gasps against his mouth then and he hears the word, “Please,” and he knows what she wants, what she needs, works a hand between them and moves it down her body. A flick of his fingers undoes the button on her pants just enough that his hand can slide inside, can move against her as her fingers scrabble for purchase, find his shirt and hold on tight. He knows what she likes, what she wants, and he works her expertly and before too long she throws her head back and gasps his name as she comes hard against his hand. 

He kisses her through the aftershocks, holds her as she sags, almost boneless, against him. When she lifts her head, gives him the tiniest smile, he doesn’t hesitate, scoops her up into his arms and carries her into the bedroom. Depositing her gently on the bed, he lies down beside her, her head on his chest right over his heart, his arms around her with his fingers tracing gentle circles on the exposed skin of her stomach and back. 

“I was so scared,” she whispers eventually, breaking the silence. “I’m still scared.” 

“I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “Me too.” 

She’s quiet again then. He almost thinks she’s fallen asleep until her fingers start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “Maybe it’s a sign,” she murmurs. “Maybe I’m better off as an analyst.”

He can’t help the way his heart leaps. Right now, he wants her in the JOC all the time, where he can keep an eye on her, where he knows the greatest danger that could befall her is a paper cut. But he knows that’s not the answer. “You can’t make that choice now,” he tells her. “You need some time. Space.” There’s also going to be at least one mandated therapy session, probably some extra field work simulations but he doesn’t want to think about that now. 

He thinks she might argue. She just hums. He moves one hand up, lets it move through her hair. “We should get away for a couple of days,” he says, thinking out loud. “I know this little place upstate... comfortable beds, roaring fireplace, very romantic...” Another hum from her and he takes that as a good thing. “We could drive up there tomorrow if you like.” 

“That sounds nice.” 

She sounds sleepy and he shifts slightly to look down at her. Sure enough, her eyes are closed, her lips curled in a smile. “First thing tomorrow,” he says, kissing her forehead. 

“Tomorrow,” she murmurs and if he knows anything about Kristen, she’ll be asleep sometime in the next two minutes. 

He watches her until he’s sure she’s asleep. 

Then he watches her some more.


End file.
